


a touch too close

by spookykingdomstarlight



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Moving On, Pining, Pre-Epilogue, Retirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 12:24:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18638068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/pseuds/spookykingdomstarlight
Summary: The intensity of Shiro’s gaze on his face, the wonder there, it was almost enough to break Curtis; his heart was already shattering in his chest at it. It wasn’t fair that Shiro could want something that badly and Curtis never knew, never even guessed. His hands balled into fists at his side and the warm flush on his face became one of anger rather than embarrassment. Anger at himself. Anger for Shiro. It wasn’t even like he could have done anything any sooner, but… but he would have liked to know, might have done something to assure Shiro that he felt the same even if the timing was all wrong.





	a touch too close

Perhaps it shouldn’t have been as much of a surprise as it was to find Shiro on the bridge of the _Atlas_ , alone, of course, and looking as fragile as Curtis had ever seen him. His shoulders seemed almost to shiver under his uniform from how tensely he held them and his head was bowed forward so Curtis couldn’t see his eyes, shadowed as they were by his bangs. He did hear the ragged breath Shiro dragged into his lungs and hated that he’d intruded on his moment, accidental though the intrusion had been.

But it was a surprise all the same.

Shiro was the most steadfast person on the entire _Atlas_ and predictable to boot. Curtis had learned most of Shiro’s quirks after shift upon shift of time spent together and Shiro didn’t make a habit of lurking, wraithlike, on the bridge, but even Curtis had to admit this was new territory for him. The war with the Galra had gone on for so long that now that it was over, really, truly over, Curtis didn’t know what to do with himself.

Apparently that went for Shiro, too, who’d been at war with them for longer than any of the rest of them save the Alteans and the Marmora, save Sam and Matt Holt, who’d been at it about as long as Shiro had.

It didn’t seem fair that Curtis should witness such a vulnerable moment, not when Shiro seemed to pride himself on his self-control. The worst part was he didn’t even seem to have heard Curtis come in, wasn’t even remotely aware of his surroundings, and now that Curtis had seen this, he couldn’t quite bring himself to leave, not when his heart ached so deeply in his chest, the sympathetic pain pulsing in time with the pumping of his blood.

Shiro deserved peace more than most of them. Of that, Curtis was certain. Nobody had thrown as much of himself into the _Atlas_ and the fight as Shiro. That he was tormented even now, when all that sacrifice had paid off? Curtis hated it. And he hated even more that he had no means of fixing it.

Clearing his throat, he scuffed his shoes against the floor and quickly busied himself with his station, the reason he’d come to begin with. He hoped it didn’t startle Shiro, but he made sure he was turned away when he alerted Shiro to his presence so they could both pretend Shiro’s privacy remained intact. “Sorry, Captain,” he said, affecting an ease he didn’t feel. He winced, then. Shiro’s title sounded weighted in his mouth, awkward and stilted. He was still the captain of the _Atlas_ as far as Curtis was concerned, but because the _Atlas_ no longer needed a captain, it felt… it felt like Curtis was rubbing something in. “I was just clearing out the stuff from my station.”

He’d left a few things behind because he’d been so sure there was no way they’d decommission her. She wasn’t really needed right now, that was true, but he’d expected she’d lumber along on lackadaisical patrols. But with the alliances Earth had built and Voltron backing those alliances up and nobody really believing something or someone as bad as Honerva could come along again, the _Atlas_ became an unnecessary relic, something cool to show the children during field trips to an aeronautic museum.

Nobody wanted to be reminded of the need for the _Atlas_ , really, so better to cast it aside.

Curtis understood it, though he didn’t particularly like it. But he couldn’t even justify his distaste because he didn’t disagree: the _Atlas_ wasn’t necessary and that wasn’t a bad thing. And even if it was, Curtis didn’t want to be there anymore.

He was so tired, ready to move on. There were people who still had a fire to protect the galaxy and they were already hard at work at the next thing. Those were the sort of people who should crew starships.

They didn’t need Curtis.

So Curtis, along with a fair portion of the _Atlas’s_ crew, was mustering out, honorable discharges for the lot of them, recommendations and job offers secured. They’d completed their tours and were ready to move on, hungry for lives that didn’t wrap themselves up in fights and battles and skirmishes across the galaxy. And though Curtis knew he would probably have signed on for another if the _Atlas_ remained, that decision was taken out of his hands entirely.

Some of it he wouldn’t miss, but he would miss Shiro.

“You’re fine, Lieutenant,” Shiro replied, warm. Curtis turned to look at him. An equally warm smile graced Shiro’s mouth, enough to take Curtis’s breath away with its generosity.

“You don’t have to call me that anymore,” Curtis said, tapping his chest. It was a relief to know the galaxy’s problems were no longer his, but there was still a melancholy that clung to him. But he felt that every time his life changed significantly; it was the same back when he’d signed on as a cadet, too, though he’d been too young at the time to know what melancholia was. “I’m just retired garrison now.”

It sounded weird, saying he was retired. Back in school, he’d thought he’d be here until the end of his career entirely. But the fight with Honerva… it was too much.

He didn’t want this to be his life.

Shiro’s smile widened, though it remained enigmatic as he inclined his head. “Retirement looks good on you, Curtis.”

From anyone else, it would have sounded like a cheap come on, but Shiro made everything sound earnest and well-intentioned, not cheap in the slightest. It was silly, but Curtis’s cheeks heated anyway and there was probably a very distinctive blush staining them. The hell of it was this: Curtis wouldn’t have minded it if Shiro was making a pass.

In fact, he would have liked it a lot.

“Thanks,” Curtis replied, scrubbing his hand across the back of his neck, which was equally warm from his embarrassment. Looking back at his station, he bit his lip. It probably wasn’t his place to ask, but he did it anyway. What was the worst that could happen? After today, they wouldn’t ever have to see one another if they didn’t want to. “What are you going to do now?”

Shiro didn’t say anything for a long moment, his face going through a complicated array of emotions. Wistfulness, pain, fear, hope, curiosity. Curtis wanted to pull each one apart and analyze it, figure out how each one made Shiro who he was, into someone Curtis admired and cared about. “I’m not sure yet,” he admitted as he stepped toward Curtis. “Do you need any help with that?”

Curtis’s heart pounded hard against his sternum. His blood pumped in his ears. Shiro was now close enough that Curtis was sure he’d notice it.

“Uh, no,” Curtis said, too quick, and wanted so very badly to throw caution to the wind, to say fuck it all and do the one thing he’d always stopped himself from doing. It was easier when the chain of command stood in his way. “It’s really nothing. I was just worried I’d forget…” His eyes narrowed as he caught a flash of something cross Shiro’s face. “Is everything okay?”

Shiro shook his head and dragged his hand across his jaw and back. When he pulled it away, his eyes were closed. “No, I’m fine,” he said, voice less steady than his words would have suggested. “Sorry, it’s just so strange to think this is all over finally.”

Tension filled the air, enough that Curtis feared even a whisper would make it snap.

His stomach flipped and twisted up. It felt like they were on the verge of something here, but maybe it was just his own imaginings or maybe he was just wanted really badly for it to mean something. _Please_ , he thought. _Please mean something._

“I’ll leave you to it,” Shiro said, smile going lopsided, charming and distant. His hand curled briefly around Curtis’s shoulder. He reached up to cover it with his own, but hesitated, and by then it was too late. Shiro was taking a step back and he was turning away and Curtis knew suddenly that he would never see Shiro again, that he’d fade out of Curtis’s life and end up somewhere Curtis couldn’t follow if he didn’t do anything about it.

That wasn’t… no, he couldn’t imagine his life without Shiro in it. That was the beginning and end of it.

He had to do something. The alternative was untenable, impossible.

Shiro made it as far as the door before Curtis grabbed his wrist and pulled him around. Shiro spun into it, a perplexed expression on his face as his brows knit together and before Curtis could talk himself out of it, he pulled Shiro close and kissed him.

Oh, crap. He’d kissed him. Was kissing him. That was what was happening now. And then it was done and he knew for certain that Shiro’s lips were even softer than Curtis could have imagined.

Even more important: he knew what it felt like for Shiro to kiss him back, what his hands felt like when they lifted to cradle the back of Curtis’s head, when his thumbs brushed the sensitive spots behind Curtis’s ears, like he already knew just how Curtis liked to be touched.

And then he was scrambling backwards, leaning away as his heart pounded furiously and a pulsing, fear-filled headache built behind his eyes. He shouldn’t have done that. He should not have done that. This was his CO and even if…

Even if everything had changed, it didn’t change that. There was no way that Shiro would want him. There was no possible way he could see Curtis as something other than the lieutenant who served under him in the war.

Hell, Shiro hadn’t even hinted that he thought one way or the other about Curtis even just as a person. But Curtis couldn’t look away and he couldn’t deny what he’d done. So he tipped his chin up and looked directly into Shiro’s eyes and accepted that this was it, this was how their relationship ended, thin though it may have been.

He was so screwed. _So screwed_. He was going to—

But Curtis saw interest there. Interest that he had never seen before. Interest and—hope? Was that hope? It looked like hope, though that didn’t make sense. And desire, though Curtis didn’t know how he knew that, since he’d never seen Shiro want anything that didn’t come wrapped up with his need for victory against the enemy. He’d seen Shiro want to save them all, want to see his team and crew safe. But he’d never seen Shiro want something for himself, not once. Not anything more serious than a hot cup of tea anyway and one of Hunk’s culinary wonders.

This was—this was real, whatever else it was, and Shiro seemed…

The intensity of Shiro’s gaze on his face, the wonder there, it was almost enough to break Curtis; his heart was already shattering in his chest at it. It wasn’t fair that Shiro could want something that badly and Curtis never knew, never even guessed. His hands balled into fists at his side and the warm flush on his face became one of anger rather than embarrassment. Anger at himself. Anger for Shiro. It wasn’t even like he could have done anything any sooner, but… but he would have liked to know, might have done something to assure Shiro that he felt the same even if the timing was all wrong.

“I…” Words flitted through Curtis’s mind, but he would be damned if he could remember what he wanted to say. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“No,” Shiro said and his tone was such that Curtis wouldn’t have argued with it even if he wanted to. “No, don’t ever apologize for—” His hand scraped through his hair, mussing it the way Curtis had wanted to on so many occasions. Maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference if Shiro knew, but maybe it would have. All Curtis knew for sure was he wanted Shiro to be happy.

“Are you sure?” Curtis asked. He needed to know, needed to hear it, needed everything Shiro was willing to give to him even though it felt selfish and greedy. “I didn’t mean…”

But Shiro didn’t let him finish speaking, because Shiro dragged him forward, hands fisted tightly in Curtis’s uniform. His lips moved, insistent, against Curtis’s, his tongue parting Curtis’s teeth, saying without words all the things to Curtis that Curtis wanted to say to him.

He’d been kissed before, of course he had, but he’d never been kissed like this.

Leave it to Shiro to prove himself better than all the rest in this, too. It made a smile pull at Curtis’s lips, one that Shiro could probably feel if the confused little hum was any indication. He pulled back and brushed his thumb across Curtis’s cheek. “What?” he asked, genuinely confused, because of course he was. Of course he couldn’t figure out just what it was Curtis was smiling about even though the answer was simple enough that anyone could see it.

Maybe one day he’d explain it to Shiro, one day soon even, perhaps even over dinner if Shiro went for it, but until then, he was willing to take one out of Shiro’s playbook.

He trusted that another kiss would be answer enough for now.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for the 76 Kiss Meme that's been floating around on tumblr since forever, I think, but I’ve been taking requests over at [my dreamwidth](https://spookykingdomstarlight.dreamwidth.org/12654.html). For this particular fill, I decided to write an “are you sure” kiss.


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